“I just…”
I draw a deep breath.
Just spit it out, Violet. Say what’s on your mind like that woman did. Ask the questions that need asking. Then you won’t have to keep wondering or feel like you’re suffocating.
“Mr. Hawthorne…”
“Yes?”
“Why are you being kind to me?”
Asher doesn’t answer at once. For another moment, his eyebrows remain creased. Then they arch.
“Oh. Is that what you think of what I just did? An act of kindness?”
Now I’m the one who’s confused. Wasn’t it?
“It’s not just what you did. I’m talking about everything. The coffee. The compliments. All the help with work.”
He touches his chin as he leans on the edge of his desk. “I see. You think I’m being kind. That’s why you asked me earlier if there was anything I wanted.”
I nod.
“You think I’m being kind because I want you to sleep with me?” Asher asks me outright.
I shrug. “I think you’re being kind because you need… something. I just can’t figure out what.”
“Well, I don’t,” he says. “I have many ways of seducing women. Kindness isn’t one of them.”
Okay. So I’m right. Asher no longer wants to sleep with me. That’s a good thing, right? That’s what I wanted? Why then don’t I feel relieved?
“Like I said earlier, I’m not expecting anything from you, Ms. Cleary,” Asher adds. “So you don’t have to worry.”
No. I’m not worried. I’m disappointed, hurt. When someone doesn’t expect anything from you, doesn’t that mean they’ve given up on you? That they no longer care about you? So Asher no longer cares about me?
I was complaining about being a charity case but I’m not even that. It’s like Asher just had this kindness to throw around and I just happened to be there so I got a sprinkle of it.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t being kind, Ms. Cleary. I was just being your boss. A nice boss, which is really what I usually am. In fact, if you ask some of the people here, they’ll tell you I’m nicer than my brothers.”
Right. Asher’s just being… Asher. He wasn’t going out of his way to be nice to me. He wasn’t treating me like I was special. He wasn’t being anything, least of all kind, which is cruel, really. I can’t stand it.
“Well, you don’t have to be,” I tell him.
He gives me a puzzled look. “I don’t have to be your boss? Ms. Cleary, are you quitting?”
“You don’t have to be nice,” I explain.
“Like I said, I’m not trying to be nice to you or anything. I’m just—”
“Just don’t, Asher.” I put my hands up. “Whatever it is, whatever’s been going on, just stop it. Don’t bring me coffee. Don’t send me home early. Don’t tell me my dress is nice. Don’t ask me how I’m feeling. Don’t talk to me.”
I put my hands down and draw a deep breath.
“Just leave me alone, Mr. Hawthorne. Please?”
For a moment, Asher just looks at me. Then he shrugs. “Fine.”
Fine? That’s all he has to say after everything I said?
I turn around and leave.
Fine.Chapter NineAsher
“You don’t look fine,” Glenn tells me as he serves up my second martini. “Tough week at work?”
“Women,” I answer before taking a sip.
One woman, to be precise. Violet Cleary.
She’s perplexing. I flirt with her. She thinks I’m a jerk. I apologize to her and she still thinks I’m a jerk. I act like a jerk. She won’t go away. I give her a present. She introduces my balls to her knee. Ouch. I let that go. I’m practically a saint. I even do nice things for her like I normally do for my best employees. And what does she do? She looks at me like I’m the scum of the earth and tells me to leave her alone.
No. She’s not perplexing. Perplexing I can take. I love it even. When I see a math problem that challenges me, I immerse myself in it. I take time to figure out the answer, and when I do, I feel immense satisfaction, like everything in the universe makes sense.
Violet is impossible. She’s a problem without a right answer.
“Why is it that women don’t make any sense?” I ask Glenn. “You’re mean to them and they get hurt. You’re nice to them and they still cry foul. They hate you either way and yet they still stick around.”
“Women,” Glenn mutters as he shakes his head.
“Yup. That sounds like them,” Ethan agrees.
I look at him and snort. “You have no right to complain. You have Stella.”
“And sometimes I still don’t understand her,” Ethan says. “The other day, she wanted to have guacamole with chocolate syrup.”
Glenn chuckles. “Think women are bad? Pregnant women are worse. They’re cranky and whiny. They’re roller coasters. One day they’re so happy they want to buy every pair of baby shoes in the store. The next they’re crying because they can’t decide whether they want pink or red nail polish. One moment they’re all over you and won’t let you leave their side. The next they literally throw up at the sight of you.”